A Midsummer Night's Kiss (Howertys #1)

Chapter 25: Men Playing Cards

Nathaniel took a sip of his brandy before putting the glass down on the round table he shared with his friends. They had brought him to White's, saying that they wanted to play a few games of whist before the engagement ball. It was a poor excuse for them to try to get him foxed. To their dismay, he had caught on early and was drinking at a more leisurely pace than any of them had hoped for.

"Refill, Pensington?" Wortham asked pleasantly when he noticed that his glass was empty.

"Please," he said with an amused glance in his friend's direction. "But I should warn you that you will not be drinking me under the table this evening. Aunt Jane will have my head if I arrive at my engagement ball stinking of brandy."

"You wound me." Wortham poured a good amount of brandy into the empty snifter. "Would I do such a thing?"

His snort was answer enough.

"When does the ball start?" Gabriel Winter asked as he moved the cards around in his hands. "Mother has told me I have to attend. There might be some unfortunate lady who catches my interest."

Wortham chuckled. "Are those your words or hers?"

"A bit of both," Winter admitted with a brief grin.

Gowthorpe flicked open his pocket watch. "We still have some time before we have to get home and make ourselves presentable."

"Your days of freedom are limited." Wortham grinned at Nathaniel. "Are you sure you don't want to hurry the drinking along a little?"

"I'm fine, thank you," he replied dryly. "Feel free to drink a little extra on my behalf, though."

Wortham laughed. "Tempting, but no. I think your lovely aunt would have my head as well."

Taking another sip from his snifter, Nathaniel looked down at the cards in his hand. It was only his second glass, and they had already been there for a couple of hours. He knew it frustrated Wortham that he wouldn't drink more, but that just made it easier to resist. It would be much too satisfying for Wortham to see him make an arse out of himself at his own engagement ball. The event was scheduled for that evening at Pensington House, arranged by his aunt, who loved such things.

Both Aunt Jane and Gowthorpe had wanted a long engagement of several months to stave off any rumours of anything untoward having happened between Angel and Chettisham, but Nathaniel had refused. Four weeks from the day he asked Angel to be his wife and no more. His excuse had been that it was better to get it done instead of letting people gossip for the next few months. The sooner they married, the sooner the ton could grow bored with the news and start looking for something else to talk about.

Which was all true. But mostly, he just wanted her to be his wife. He didn't trust himself to stay away from her for longer than that. Any time they were together, he wanted to drag her into a dark corner and kiss her senseless. No, that was a lie. He wanted to do a good deal more than kiss her. And once they were married, he could.

Every night he lay in bed thinking of Angel and their impending vows. For someone who had no interest in marriage only a couple of months ago, he had to admit that his tune had changed. The moment he blurted out his offer of marriage—the moment he'd decided he wanted Angel for his wife—he had known he wanted it to be as soon as possible because every day he could not be with her was agony.

"Pensington?" Wortham was looking at him with an amused grin playing on his lips.

"What?" The disgruntled tone made his friend grin even wider.

"It's your turn to deal."

"Right."

"I wonder if Lady Garland will be at the ball tonight," Gowthorpe wondered aloud while waiting for him to finish shuffling.